Fiery Ripples
by Lennox13
Summary: Crossroads of Destiny: A minute would have made such a difference. If Katara succeeded in healing Zuko, what would be the repercussions? How would this small change ripple through time? Zutara. Friendships, family and acceptance.
1. Chapter 1

**I hope you enjoy my Zutara contribution. Or at least, the hesitant start to it.**

* * *

"I've been saving it for something important. I don't if it would work but…"

Her words echo between them as she steps closer, reaching out with one hand. The water leaping from the vial glows even before she imbues it with her healing will. Zuko keeps his eyes trained on the water-tribe girl, gaze filled with suspicious hope. And longing.

The water is eager, joyful. It was destined for this and as the droplets seep into the banished prince's skin, it heals more than burned skin. It soothes a deep-seated hurt and unhappiness and offers a fresh start, a new beginning. It takes forever and no time at all for Zuko to be reborn.

Katara frowns at her work, not completely satisfied with the end result. The scarred skin had lightened and smoothed out but was still tinged silver and slightly pink. His eyelid had lifted though, and she hoped that a bit of sun would succeed in nurturing the skin and evening out the tone.

She sighs, stepping back. "That's the best I can do. I'm sor-"

"Don't." He barks. Not rudely but in disbelief. "Katara…" Zuko's eyes widen with wonder and a heartbreakingly beautiful smile slips across his lips. "Katara, it's perfect," he breathes. "I can see!"

And he finally could. Everything around him brightens almost painfully and he wants to turn in circles to take it all in. The blobs and shapes which always danced in his peripheral come into focus, and for the first, he can see the girl before him. Completely, fully, in all of her splendid glory. He thinks she might just be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

The water-girl startles. She hadn't even thought of the damage the fire must have done to his sight. She had fed the water into the deadened nerves of his face and felt those awaken, but the eye she'd thought better left undisturbed. The magic of the water was what had restored his eye.

"Thank you!" he hiccups a laugh, oblivious of her realisation, and Katara can only marvel at the change in demeanour.

Before she could protest, he picks her up and swings her around exuberantly. Ironically, he also spins her away from the wall that, seconds later, implodes to reveal the dust-encrusted faces of their rescuers.

* * *

When Azula flings the arching lightning at the Avatar, Katara can only watch with encroaching horror from too-too far away.

But then Zuko is there, jumping and leaping, catching the energy with a swirling grace that tasted of water, before sending it crackling back.

Katara could smell the ozone, feel static electricity buzzing through the air, and she is still vibrating with shock, even as her gut pulls up a wall of water between her makeshift family and those who wished them harm. She grabs them, the boy of air and the boy of fire, garbing them in water and bending the trio up to freedom as Iroh distracts Azula below. Leaving the grey-haired man behind breaks her heart.

"Are you alright?" she asks once they're far enough away and safely on Appa's back. Zuko is crouched at the very edge of Appa's saddle, clutching at his temples, bent over his stomach.

Katara approaches hesitantly, still unsure how far she should she extend the frayed tethers of her trust. "Zuko, you're safe. Everyone's safe. Thanks to you." Her voice is soft, brimming with overwhelming gratitude.

Zuko's eyes are squeezed shut, brows furrowed. His newly healed scar glistens in the weak moonlight He lowers his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists as if grasping desperately at water. Or perhaps fire, in his case.

Katara frowns at his hands, so much lighter than her own. "Are you hurt?" she asks again, fear creeping in. She's already reaching for the water bladder at her side.

"I…" Zuko breathes. He looks up at her, his eyes opening wide. "I can't… I can't fire-bend."

Katara gasps. Not at his words although they are certainly gasp-worthy too. She gasps in shock and wonder at his eyes. His eyes….

Torn between leaning forward and backing away, Katara settles for reaching out slowly to brush an errant lock of black hair from his face. His eyes, one golden like the morning sun and the other silver, silver like the moon.

Newly healed, Zuko could see every vivid crease of worry and shock rippling across the water-tribe girl's face – the first face he had seen in startling clarity for the first time in years. For a few precious moments, he'd felt whole and content, finally realising where his destiny had led and fighting for what he believed to be right. But now, staring desperately at pale fingers, palms devoid of flame, he'd never felt more broken.

Sun-kissed, moon-cursed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Following the time skip between S2 and S3. Thank you to the two followers for showing your support! I appreciate it a lot.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise. **

The moon is full and Katara can't sleep, feeling the pull and push of the tides too keenly. The sirensong is less powerful now that she's on solid ground again, but no less alluring.

After a month of travelling with Katara and Sokka's father on their stolen Fire Nation ship, nobody was completely sad to part ways. It was nice to be relatively safe and hidden for a while, but soon the mood had turned sour, as the group, used to constant travel and challenge, became antsy. They were planning to travel different routes through the Fire Nation towards the capital, everyone would meet up once more on the day of the eclipse for the final assault.

What made the time on the ship especially tense and uncomfortable, had been the rest of the Southern Water Tribes's refusal to trust Zuko even with both Katara and Aang vouching for the banished prince. The adults didn't allow Zuko in on the meetings and Sokka glared him whenever he could. Besides helping them pass for a true Fire Nation ship and decoding reports, Zuko remained relatively isolated on the ship, despite her best attempts to pull him from his depression.

The only times he had seemed remotely content, had been when she had offered to teach him more water-bending moves like the one he'd used on Azula. In return, he taught her and Aang fire-bending poses and routines, and although Zuko warned Aang against summoning actual flames, Katara knew that the Avatar was experimenting on his own, trying to overcome his fear of fire.

When she sits up with a morose sigh, accepting that her too-loud thoughts weren't going to quiet down anytime soon, she finds the space across from her curiously empty. _Zuko._

With a mix of instinctual suspicion and then, shame at that unbidden emotion, Katara pushes herself up and carefully tip-toes away from the rest of the sleeping party. Toph stirs a bit but settles down again quickly enough.

Zuko had since joining them proven nothing but courteous and helpful, but years of oppression from his people and weeks of being hunted by him was hard to simply forget. Forgiven, yes, but not forgotten. Momo is the only one who watches as the blue-clad ghost slips off into the night.

She finds Zuko quickly. With his knees pulled into his chest and back to her, she spots him near the burbling brook, just beyond the outcropping of boulders Toph had set up for shelter. The moon dances across the water, which appears to be as black as his hair in the dark.

Shuffling her feet and clearing her throat, she announces her presence and approaches. Although the prince was quickly relaxing into their company much easier now that they weren't confined in an enemy ship, they were all still on edge enough without any needless startles. Katara sits down next to him with her legs stretched out towards the water. Her heels sink into the damp grass growing along the bank and quick enough, her toes are submerged as the water creeps from its bed.

"I miss it."

She starts and the water sloshes back. Katara's cheeks flush. _She should have thought_! Here she was, effortlessly bending, enjoying her element, next to a boy who'd just recently lost touch with his soul. "Sorry," she whispers, thinking about how she would feel without being able to answer the call of the tides and waves.

"No, it's not your fault," he quickly tries to reassure, mistaking what she was apologising for. "If you hadn't healed me, I would… I might've…." The words, the unspoken possibilities, is left to hang between them. Silence reigns.

"I can still feel it," Zuko says after a long while of quiet companionship. "My inner fire is still there, inside. I can still hear the flames breathe and pulse. The sun still calls. I-I just can't reach it." And his voice cracks.

Katara, recognising the danger of too thin ice over a molten lake, sits and waits. _Would the ice hold?_ She thinks, finding it still so strange to think in water-tribe metaphors where the fire-bender was concerned. But the ice does hold.

So, she remains, sitting next to the broken boy, wanting to whisper that she too, sometimes thought that she might be broken. She sits and enjoys the moonlight, thinking of Yue and if she would be proud of Katara's choice. She stays, even as the moon fades in favour of the sun, which peaks out beyond the horizon, bright fingers clawing across the sky.

Zuko leaves before she does, heading back to their camp, not wanting to disturb the fragile bonds and group dynamics still shifting, shaping, solidifying. She watches as his shadow disappears, and something inside her wants to jump and follow, and to tell him that, regardless of his abilities, he is still a blazing inferno and that, through the night, she never once felt the cold.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for following! I really poured my heart into this one. I hope you can see the dance at the end of the chapter as clearly as I could. I imagined it to be pretty similar to the original, just more interactive, like a real fight almost, and with more of the elaborate fire-bending sweeps and kicks.**

**I also found some glaringly obvious typos in the previous chapter, and I've fixed the ones I could. Sorry about that!**

**Any advice or comments or support is welcomed and appreciated. Enjoy!**

* * *

When Zuko first sees Katara in red, in _his_ colour, he swears he feels the tingle of flames at his fingers.

She looks beautiful and radiant and warm. The red makes her blue eyes pop. She is breathtaking. Shyly, she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and, heartbreakingly self-conscious, she twirls her fingers in front of her bare stomach and Zuko tastes ash.

He wants to say something, tell her how lovely she looks. He wants to tell her that she would be the envy of all Fire Nation ladies, that she should walk with the same confidence wearing red as she did in blue. But he doesn't.

And before he could talk himself into anything, Aang notes her water-tribe necklace and he watches the shy smile evaporate entirely. He knows how much it means to her – he'd used it against her once upon a time, in what feels like another lifetime. But he wants to make her smile once more, so he vows to use the last bit of gold stuffed in his boot, that he had been saving for a new razor, to buy her a necklace.

When they enter the bazaar, he slips away quietly when the others head into a buzzing restaurant. Quickly, he finds the stalls selling anything from jewellery, scarves and hand-carved bowls to candles, herbs and figurines. Zuko looks for neck-ribbons but there are too many choices and he feels unbearably overwhelmed. At the edge of the market, he staggers to a halt in front of a lady, hair streaked with grey, sitting behind her wares and, swallowing his pride, he asks for advice.

"Ah, a young lady you like?" A smile tugs at the edge of her lips and she seems friendly enough, but the shrewd look in her eyes makes Zuko feel uncomfortable.

Eyes wide, Zuko shakes his head so fast, a bit of his fringe catches him in the eye, and he winces. "I-I don't have much, though," he admits, but she is kind enough to show him the less expensive ribbons.

His eyes catch on a plain black ribbon. On it hangs a golden pendant, round with graceful spikes – a sun. It wouldn't be pure gold, but whatever the material is, it gleams and glitters in the mid-morning sun. Unconsciously, he moves a bit closer and nearly gasps when he sees the shape of a sickle moon carved into the sun's face.

"You have a fine eye," the lady says softly and he quickly looks away. There is no way that he could afford such a magnificently crafted piece. "Is she gentle, then? A lady of the moon?" The vendor asks as Zuko looks at the ribbons with markings and embroidery. No pendants.

Distracted, he pauses, then shakes his head lightly. "No, though she can be gentle, she is fiercely so. She is radiant." He points at a red band, embroidered with delicate fire lilies. It is the most beautiful of the ribbons he can afford, and only just if he includes the money he had planned to use for a hot meal.

Instead of the one he chose, the woman wraps the necklace he wants. "A generous discount for young love," she says with a wink. "It would do my husband worlds of good to know that his work will be worn by a fiercely gentle lady-love."

Emotion chokes him as Zuko tries to express the profoundness of his thanks, of his genuine gratitude. But the vendor merely laughs gaily at his antics, laugh lines sparking around her eyes and mouth, and pats him on the hand. "Go give it to her, then."

He does.

The smile she wears is more beautiful than any jewellery he could ever hope to give, and Zuko stares far harder than he should, trying to imprint its blazing glory in his mind. She binds it around her neck, her eyes full of joy. She offers him another smile, softer this time but no less beautiful.

It looks like she wants to say something but whatever it is, is swallowed up by the loud, shrill yell Sokka emits right before he tackles Zuko to the ground.

A scuffle, bruised ribs and dusty clothes later, Zuko is finally freed by the help from the small crowd that had formed around them.

"What did I do?" Zuko demands, but Sokka merely shoots him a glare that promises death and marches away.

"What did I do?" He pleads with Katara, but she only laughs and runs after her brother.

Nursing a bloody lip, he is left feeling sore and extremely confused. But it doesn't matter because when he closes his eyes, he can see Katara's smile, a bright imprint in his mind from staring at the sun.

* * *

Zuko never learns why Sokka chose to fight him that day, even when he asks later that evening whilst Katara heals his lip and checks his ribs. She purposefully leaves Sokka for last, saying that he could suffer a bit longer for acting so stupidly. Sokka's eye, the one that isn't swollen, glares at Zuko from across the room.

Sokka is forced to wait a little longer, when Aang finally arrives, darting inside the cave with a face-splitting grin. He skids to a halt in front of Zuko and to his surprise, the air-bender gives him a proper Fire Nation bow.

"Uhm, okay," he responds, bowing his own head in response. "Usually it's a bit lower, but, uhm, why?"

Sokka looks equally as confused. "Where have you been?" he demands, wincing when his gesturing pulls at his sore shoulder.

"I enrolled in Fire Nation school, and I'm going back tomorrow," Aang chirps excitedly, petting Momo enthusiastically.

"You did what?!" Sokka fell off his rock. "Ow," he groans.

As Aang defends his reasoning for going back, Zuko can't help but feel proud of the young Avatar who so easily throws away prejudices and fears. He appreciates that Aang wants to see the Fire Nation people as actual people and not just the ruler who dictates their ways.

So, when Sokka finally relents, Zuko offers to teach Aang the Fire Nation oath even as the words burn his tongue and sting his throat.

* * *

A dance party did sound silly and oh, so frivolous, but even though he disagrees, Zuko helps Aang to light the candles – Aang with fire-bending and Zuko, the old fashioned way.

When the small school children arrive, Zuko panics because he just knows one of them will recognise him as the scarred prince, banished from the palace. He backs away, heading to where he could hide with Appa until the party is over. He nearly falls over Toph.

"Hey! Where ya going?" she asks, her unseeing eyes staring at him quizzically.

"They might see me," he whispers hastily, trying to dodge past her.

But Toph easily anticipates his movements. "Well, you still look the same to me, but word on the street is that you've been healed of a horrible-looking scar."

Zuko's hand flies up to his face, paling at Toph's tactless words before remembering that they are true. "Oh, yeah," he finishes lamely, moving back towards the front of the cave, where a small band had started up.

Zuko winces at Aang's dance moves. When he said 'classic', he meant 'ancient', which he guesses are synonymous in some circles. The palace dances are stiff and stately affairs, and what constitutes as dancing could also qualify as marching. He'd never enjoyed them.

"Want to dance?" Katara sidles up to him and he nearly chokes on air.

"Ugh, I'm not very good," he admits, rubbing absentmindedly below his previously scarred eye, where the skin was so unbelievably smooth. It's soon becoming a nervous gesture and his etiquette instructor sounds in his head.

He watches the dancefloor apprehensively, where Aang is charming a pretty Fire Nation girl into a formal Earth Kingdom dance. A few of the other children were also starting to… move. Once again, Zuko can only marvel at the easy way Aang seems to have with so many different kinds of people. He truly is the Avatar.

Despite his protest, Katara smiles up at him. "In the Water Tribe, we dance how we bend." She pulls at his hand and he swears Toph bends the earth underneath his feet, to propel him forward. He stumbles a bit but catches himself. "Come on, you know the moves! Just follow me!" And with a smile that puts the heavens to shame, she leads him into dance. It dawns on Zuko, as he follows in her dance, that wherever she leads, and not just in dance, he would surely follow.

To his surprise, Katara starts their dance with a fire-bending move, which he instinctually copies as they circle, which is more reminiscent of air-bending than fire-bending. They switch sides, and again they circle. Zuko frowns at Aang over Katara's shoulder, unsure of what she wants from him. Aang merely grins at him, gesturing at him to _watch_ Katara.

Zuko refocuses on his dance partner. She smiles sneakily and he only has a second, before she attacks. He ducks immediately, years of training coming to his aid and also forcing him to sweep his leg out, trying to trip her and throw her off balance. But she anticipates it and darts out of the way. She twirls back close with a jumping leap before initiating one of her favourite katas, one that requires two participants. She adapts some of her water-bending moves to appear more like fire-bending and he follows suit. But still, despite the fire sparking at the edges of the water katas, she pushes and pulls, and he is the water moving where she wills.

Knowing that he would sense the sudden change in posture, she leads him into one of his own katas, with a punch at his head and a punch to his torso. The kata is advanced, a series of quick powerful punches and kicks, but he's practised it so many times that he allows his body to move o fits own accord in time to the sped-up music, whilst his mind watches Katara as she swirls and twirls between his punches. Her wrists are loose and soft.

They fight and they dance, and although he can feel the stares from his audience, he only has eyes for her. He doesn't want the night to end.


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't want to rewrite the series - I'm writing the moments in between, to show how the relationships between the characters bloom. So, yes, Zutara, but friendship is just as sweet, if not more so.**

**To the guest reviewer (ipod reader): You read my mind. And it's apparently canon! Probably not how it happened in canon, but yes, it is green and purple. Also, I love Toph as a character, but unlike the others, she doesn't need as much attention. She deserves it though, so I've edited and snipped and moved things around. Next chapter is for you. Thanks for the interest.**

* * *

Out of everyone, the hardest to win over turns out to be Sokka. On one of their stopovers, just before Jian Hui, their camp is attacked by fire-bending pirates, who overpower them with the element of surprise and superior numbers. With Zuko unable to bend and Aang restricted to a single element for fear of exposure, they struggle to hold their own.

They barely escape when Toph and Aang's earth-bending tremors cause a cliff-face to crumble. Zuko tackles Katara out of the way of the boulder avalanche. The avalanche succeeds in blocking the group from the bandits but only after nearly crushing both parties in the process.

Still, Zuko saves Sokka's sister and yet, the water-tribe boy treats him with cool disdain.

* * *

"Maybe he needs a fire-bending master who's not broken," Sokka taunts as he dodges the panicked fireballs Aang accidentally throws his way. Aang was struggling with control and Sokka was blaming it all on the faulty royal.

Sokka's words hit a nerve and it is difficult not to wince, especially because Sokka merely echoes the litany of similar accusations Zuko has faced throughout his life. His father judged him broken, his sister judged him broken, his nation judged him broken... and it took nearly three years of Iroh's patient tutelage to finally wear Zuko down into merely entertaining the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't completely broken.

Now, without fire-bending, all his uncle's work proved pointless. Zuko truly feels broken.

"Just because I can't fire-bend, doesn't mean I can't still teach Aang," Zuko argues but the words carry no bite. No heat. He stares into the sun to hide the sting of frustrated tears.

"Ah, the classic case of 'those who can't do, teach', huh?" Sokka teases before dancing away, laughing deliriously as a water whip directed by Aang's water-bending _teacher_ snaps at his heels.

"Of course, I didn't mean you, Katara!" Sokka tries to placate and runs just to hide behind Toph's earth-bended lookout. Zuko doesn't see the flare of regret flash across his face when Sokka quickly glances his way.

* * *

Against all reason, Zuko tracks down a gemsbok bull for Sokka to hunt and kill. Though the meat succeeds in momentarily satiating Sokka's appetite, it doesn't clear the air between them completely.

* * *

Zuko and Sokka are fishing. Or rather, trying to, since the pollution of the river under Jian Hui has nearly killed off all the creatures living in its depths. It is here, on the sludgy banks and being stifled by the smell of death, that Sokka first hints at the reason behind his lingering animosity.

Yue, the girl who had sacrificed her life to revive the murdered Moon Spirit, had been Sokka's first love. Without Yue, the water from the oasis would have lost its power and Katara would never have been able to heal Zuko's scar. And Sokka was still coming to terms with the fact that the precious water had been used for something as inconsequential as 'improving the aesthetics of a fire nation prince'.

"That's rough, buddy." Zuko doesn't know what else to say and can only watch, helplessly, as the other boy stomps off. Zuko vows to prove to Sokka that he was worth Yue's sacrifice.

He tries to show his usefulness, to show them that they could trust him and that he was worthy of their friendship. He is surprised to realise that he not only finds this endeavour far more rewarding than chasing down his so-called honour but that the rest of the group tries to match his fervour, genuinely showing appreciation for every favour and chore. Their smiles and thanks become the foundations of his new self and the walls of his new home.

And yes, it kills him every time when he dips into his core, reaching for the fire within, only to come out feeling so empty. It's not a small nor easy price to pay but he would never want it back if it meant losing any one of them.

* * *

One day, whilst Toph and Aang practice earth-bending, and Katara tries to mend a tear in Aang's newly acquired Fire Nation shirt, Sokka reluctantly allows Zuko to tag along when he goes looking for food.

On the small island, barely more than a bunch of rocks flung together, there is nothing to hunt and everyone was slightly sick of only fish.

They find a pathetic patch of sour berries, already pecked mostly clean by 'enemy birds' but it's better than nothing.

They're dropping fingerfuls onto a Fire Nation cloak that they're using as a basket, when Zuko casually asks, "Tell me about Tui and La?"

To his surprise, Sokka does.


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm still looking for inspiration for Toph's 'life-altering field trip' but I hope, dear reviewer, that this will suffice. I really enjoyed writing this and I would have never thought to look if it hadn't been for your comments. Thanks. **

**Ideas are always welcome. I like exploring the characters and I write what I like to read. If you want more action, though, just let me know, and I'll get more creative. Please leave a review if you enjoy this - I like sharing my passion with you.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise.**

* * *

The meteors shoot overhead, blazing fiery trails across the night sky. Usually, Zuko would be fire-bending. The celestial objects passing so close to the earth were widely celebrated across the Fire Nation as signs that, even during the night, Agni watches over them. He should be telling this to Aang and have the Avatar practice fire-bending during the meteor shower since, if he can control the power during this boost, he would have a much easier time when his inner fire settles down once more.

But Zuko feels too distracted by his own fire and the static sounding in his head. His very soul is alight with power, blazing with glorious heat, but his palms remain empty.

"It's not as beautiful as the lights back home but it'll do," Sokka says, tracing one of the bright tails with his finger.

"It doesn't even compare!" Katara protests and tucks her arms behind her head. "You didn't see them when you were there, Aang, but when we go back, Sokka and I'll take you a bit more south. It's colder but the Spirit Lights are worth it!"

Her enthusiasm is contagious and soon Sokka is planning an entire trip, with seal hunting and igloo sculpting and everything. "I miss home," they sigh, almost simultaneously, and that casts a sombre air over the party.

The siblings think of the ice and bundling up in furs. They think of sea prunes and shadow-puppets against ice walls. Aang thinks of the temples and the monks and reflexively pulls Momo closer. Zuko thinks of his uncle and his mom, and how much his home no longer seems to be the Fire Nation. No, home for him is other people, and he hopes to Agni that they wouldn't banish him as well.

"Well, I don't," Toph huffs, and Zuko looks over to the small girl lying next to him. She too faces the sky with one foot firmly on the ground, and the other bouncing erratically across her knee. There's a strange twist across her lips and though similar to her usual sarcastic visage, it's sadder, crueller almost. Zuko wants to ask if everything is alright but knows that the little earth-bender wouldn't appreciate words. She is kind of like Mai in that way.

Katara misunderstands Toph's meaning and immediately tries to make things right. "Oh, you'll come too, Toph! Of course, Gran-Gran would love you." And then, just to make sure nobody is left out, "Zuko, you can come too. I don't think you've seen the Spirit Lights either."

Zuko shrugs as best he can without lifting his shoulder from the ground. His future seems too murky to think about something as seemingly inconsequential as colourful lights.

His mind strays to Toph's face again and, peeking to his right, it looks no happier. He still marvels at the fact that he could actually see the girl from the corner of his eye without completely turning his head. His scar might be the biggest visual difference but for him, the restoration of his full sight was the biggest gift he could have ever received.

Startling, he realises what might be upsetting the girl. She is so capable, so fiercely independent, that he sometimes forgets that she couldn't see. And although she seems to appreciate, even want, this kind of aloof attitude where her blindness is concerned, she must also feel left out quite a bit.

With a small harrumph at his own linguistic ineptness, he tries, for her, to find the right words. "It's like… when it's night… everyone is blind. And the stars are these little pinpricks of light twinkling, no, pulsing, in the big, black nothingness." But all she sees is black, how would she imagine light?

Frustrated, he tries again. "Im-Imagine, you can't feel. For half the day; during the night. And that's okay because that's when you sleep, but even though you go to sleep because you can't feel, there's these small… pebbles, that rain across the nothingness. And they give you hope that, in the morning, you'll be able to feel again. The meteors, though... they're not just baby pulses. Their large vibrations, streaking through your skin, reverberating against your bones. It's like… a kiss. Something so incredibly small but so unexpectedly beautiful. And all the more beautiful because of its being so fleeting." Zuko's trails off. He's out of breath, and his heart pounds against his ribcage. He feels like he's just run all the way from Ba Sing Se.

"Ee-eeh," Aang draws the sound out. "I'm confused." And he genuinely sounds it, so Zuko doesn't feel any offence since he is too and his cheeks feel like twin volcanoes.

Nobody tries to explain or cracks a joke, even though Sokka makes a little grunt as if he'd thought of the perfect thing to say - something about poetry and Fire nation schools. But he doesn't and everyone just stares up into the big black nothingness which, for a few precious seconds, are streaked with light.

Zuko almost feels something like relief when the meteor arches towards them. Surely this brush with death would burn away their memories of Zuko's embarrassing attempt at explaining the stars to a blind girl.

But as they all jump up, adrenaline coursing through their veins, a small hand brushes against the hem of his shirt. "Thank you," she whispers and he swears he can hear a fragile smile in her voice.


	6. Chapter 6

"Would you teach me sword-fighting?" Sokka asks, fingering a scythe before moving to the spears. To the increasing consternation of the shopkeeper, Sokka manages to upset the entire exhibit. Spears fall in a heap, clanging and thunking against the ground. After the comet and the ensuing near-destruction of the small coastal town, Sokka has been in a bit of a slump. Zuko could sympathise.

Yes, he used to be able to bend and yes, he was born a prince, but for most of his youth, he had merely existed in Azula's ever-growing shadow. Barely able to produce a steady flame by age seven, he had to endure countless of subtle and not-so-subtle jabs at his abilities, his worth and even his parentage, which only increased when his younger sister suddenly started throwing out flames which burned quicker and hotter than any witnessed before. Now, all he has left is a sense of guilt over every decision his made over the last five year and his sword-fighting skills, which he earned through blood, sweat and tears.

Another clash sounds and succeeds in pulling Zuko from his thoughts. Sokka stares apologetically at his handiwork, a pile of swords lying in a jumble of hilts and blades and Zuko, who had been staring at a magnificent sword mounted against the shop wall, gives the keening shopkeeper a small bow before pulling his charges out of the shop.

He can't help looking back. Why did that sword look so familiar? His hands itch to unwrap his own Dao blades.

"Would you tell me why you attacked me that day at the bazaar?"

Sokka's ears turn a carnelian red, pointedly not looking at his sister, whose cheeks were also heating. "It was a sneak attack," he forces out between clenched teeth.

A clear lie, but Zuko merely sighs, still trying to win the other boy over and not wanting to cause a disagreement between the two siblings. "Sure, Sokka. I can try." He does have two swords, after all, and although he prefers fighting with both, he'd been taught how to fight with just the one as well. The thought of teaching sword-fighting reminded him painfully of the little Earth Kingdom boy, Lee, but Zuko quickly pushes the memories away.

Fist pumping the air, Sokka gives an exuberant yelp. "Yes! Tomorrow, on the great island of Shu Jing, you give me my first sword-bending lesson."

"Not if you're going to call it 'sword-bending'." And then the name of the town registers. Zuko looks back at the weapon store. That sword… "Actually, if you want, I know a guy."

* * *

Zuko tells himself that it is for Sokka's sake, and only for Sokka, that he jumps from tree to tree to tree and onto the wall surrounding the sprawling estate. Two years before his banishment, Master Piandao had left the Fire Nation capitol in favour of his estate on a small island as far away from the palace as possible.

At the time, Zuko had seen it as a personal betrayal. His swordmaster had been one of the only good people in his life, besides his mother and uncle, and Piandao leaving would forever mark a beginning in Zuko's life – the start of the end of his naïve insistence and belief in the Fire Nation ideals. Now, looking back, Zuko could only imagine why Piandao had left. Personal reasons, maybe, but instructing Zuko in the way of the sword likely would not have pleased Ozai, who had long since given up the pretence that he ever planned for Zuko, the disappointment of a gentle son, to become his heir.

The house lay quietly before Zuko and before he could talk himself out of his half-baked plan, he pulls the Blue Spirit mask over his head and jumps, landing lightly on the soft grass lining a manmade waterfall construction. The water burbles softly, masking any scuffle Zuko might make and he realises that the water's comfort reaches more deeply than expects. Willing the distracting thoughts from his mind, he focuses on the task ahead.

Despite the lateness, Zuko easily feels the flicker of lamplight emanating from deeper within the house and he follows, a veritable moth-bird drawn to a flame. With a knife borrowed from Sokka, Zuko loosens the lock from a window and slips inside, noting the peculiar gleam of the tiles. Of course, despite being far removed from the dangerous courts of the Fire Nation palace, Piandao would not live complacently. Zuko recognises the tiles from his Master's favourite stealth training exercise.

The cobbles were beautiful in their own right, made from the blue-green shells of rhino-beetles, but Piandao's for them love stemmed from the fact that they made a very distinctive sound when stepped on. Several artists used them for dance routines, the vain used them to decorate and the paranoid used them to catch thieves. Zuko, knowing his master's paranoia extends far further than mere thievery, tests every chandelier and socket and table, before alighting upon each as he avoids the floor entirely.

Several of the wall-mounted candelabra wiggle suspiciously under pressure and Zuko is forced to take more creative routes as he quietly follows the call of a small flame. He is so caught up in his mission to make no sound, that he slips several times in suppressing his presence and his concentration teeters dangerously between not falling and not being noticed. His breath catches when down the hall a door opens with a small shudder and hiss. Light spills into the hall, and the shells lining the floor glint like velvet over water. Zuko pauses, hanging delicately between a small mirror and a light fixture.

"I know you are out there." Piandao's voice, strong and sure, sounds the same as five years ago, and Zuko nearly hitches back into memories long left untouched. "I promise a swift death if you show yourself." Knowing it to be futile to continue his attempt at espionage, Zuko drops and the rhino-beetle carapace clinks delicately underfoot.

"Light-footed, indeed," Master Piandao notes and Zuko flushes with pride at the small note of respect in his old master's voice. "Whoever trained you did a remarkable job." Master Piandao steps from his room. His sword is at his side and he is dressed for bed in a light robe. However, he strides forward with purpose, prepared to fight at any time. The carapace underneath his feet thunk and gong. "In honour of your teacher, I will allow you to die with honour."

Without another warning, Master Piandao shifts, ever so slightly, and attacks. Zuko barely has enough to free a Dao sword before his old master nearly takes his head off. He jumps away, trying to give himself a second, but his old master has not been sitting idle the past five years, and easily follows.

Blades flash and meet. Sparks fly and limbs dart.

Zuko quickly realises that he should have been practising more with just a single blade since he is struggling to keep up and catches himself nearly making amateur mistakes. His dual blades offer more mobility and easier defence, and he has gotten used to rivals merely being intimidated by the presence of two swords. Lessons from the past quickly resurface and despite himself, Zuko grins behind his mask. He is enjoying himself far more than he should.

Piandao, realising his opponent's capabilities, starts becoming more creative, bending the rules of classic swordsmanship more and more. A vase is hooked his way, and Zuko ducks quickly, punching a fire-fist Piandao's way. No flames erupt, but Piandao ducks anyway and despite the unsuccessful attempt at fire-bending it serves as an adequate distraction.

Whilst Piandao is low, Zuko grabs his other sword and finally, he is in his element. It takes two swings for Piandao's movements to become noticeable more strained.

Piandao darts back and the flash of satisfaction piercing Zuko is nothing small. It quickly disappears when the reason for Piandao's hesitance becomes clearer. "Zuko?" His own name freezes him in place. He'd forgotten himself for a second – his troubles and fears and doubts disappearing for a moment in the heated rush of the fight. Zuko calms his heart but does not relax his defensive stance. His banishment, coupled with news of his recent betrayal at Ba Sing Sei, clearly labels Zuko as an enemy of the Fire Nation.

However, Piandao's loyalties have always been murkier and Zuko hopes that Iroh's years of friendship with the master swordsman had not been misplaced. Or misread. Zuko hopes that the hushed talks, long looks and subsequent move to the outskirts of the Fire Nation, meant that Piandao is sympathiser. Zuko watches as Piandao lowers his sword and he sheathes his own. He removes his mask and watches as surprise and… delight flickers across his old master's face.

"I… heard your father scarred you?" Piandao says softly after a long pause.

Zuko stifles the urge to touch his face and merely continues watching the man who had, once upon a time, given him a way to take out his frustrations safely and make him feel worth something despite his inability to bend properly. Another long pause reigns.

"Ah, I assume Pakku's student is responsible," Piandao muses, more to himself than Zuko, since Zuko has no idea who _Pakku_ is, even though the name is distinctly Water Tribe. He sighs. "Shall we have some tea?"

And Zuko relaxes, recognising the soft glint in Piandao's gaze. _Uncle still has friends_, Zuko thinks and nods. He follows his teacher, stifling the childlike desire to skip across the floor to summon the musical notes which hid within.

A teapot rests on a small table in Piandao's room and he fetches an extra cup from a small cupboard before settling down on the pillows strewn across the floor. Zuko kneels and accepts a cup of dark tea. He sniffs delicate, noting soft vanilla notes but not recognising the particular leaf.

"You still overextend your left arm slightly. Remember to conserve energy with smaller moves when you know your opponent is skilled. But I enjoyed the fire-bending feint." Piandao lists Zuko's faults and strengths, commenting and instructing, even after all the years apart. The last comment stings slightly since the feint had been very much unintentional, but Zuko is not ready to admit his complete lack of bending aloud.

Piandao sips his tea. "I am pleased to see you and even more pleased to see how much you've improved, but I doubt that you are merely here to show your teacher what you've learned." Piandao looks at Zuko expectantly and Zuko swallows, wondering how much the other man knew and how much he should reveal. Piandao, no doubt realising his thoughts, smiles softly. "I heard about Iroh's capture and from the warrants out for your arrest, I deduce you have joined the Avatar in his quest."

"The Avatar is dead," Zuko immediately counters and then bites his tongue. His protest had been too quick, too fierce. Piandao merely nods sagely, not accepting nor denying the statement.

"Master… I humbly come before you. In the name of your friendship with my uncle and on the kindness you showed me as a child, I come before you to beg a favour." Zuko pauses, watching emotions flit across the other man's eyes. Piandao nods again and Zuko, feeling emboldened by the quiet, continues.

"A water-tribe boy, strong of will and keen of mind, wishes to be taught in the way of the sword. Upon my swords, I vow that his intentions are only to protect what is his and those whom he loves. He is searching for a master and I only ask that you meet him, to consider him as a candidate worthy of your tutelage."

Piandao watches intently, regarding the young prince before him with a deep fondness. He had watched the boy grow up, surrounded by such cruelty and had hoped against hopes that his small attempts at kindness, that Ursa and Iroh's influence would prove more powerful than Ozai's disdain and the Fire Court's manipulations. He feels undeniably proud of the path the boy has chosen.

"Well then, Prince Zuko, I will meet with him. Send him tomorrow at dawn." He sets the cup down gently, his eyes darting down only for a moment, but when his eyes flick back up, Zuko is gone. His tea still steams but remains untouched.

Piandao cannot help but chuckle lightly. "He is so much like you, Iroh," he says into the night. "So theatrical." He looks forward to meeting the prospective student, vowing to test the boy like any other despite his own fervent desires to help the young prince.


End file.
